


More Than She Was Looking For

by TheSeventhSirensCall



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:49:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23634964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeventhSirensCall/pseuds/TheSeventhSirensCall
Summary: Theia Hawke never thought she'd live to see the day Helios crash and burned, let alone be so close she could feel the heat of the flames. The wreckage of a gigantic artificial complex of control, weaponry and surveillance was ripe for the picking. Maybe she'd get lucky, make her fortune and finally be able to leave Pandora. Though, she certainly finds more than she's looking for when she sees a very poorly dressed Hyperion Survivor talking to... Handsome Jack?
Relationships: Rhys (Borderlands)/OC, Rhys/OC
Kudos: 2





	More Than She Was Looking For

[ More Than She Was Looking For ]  
[ Prologue ]  
[ The Pandoran Sahara ]

Theia Hawke never thought she’d live to see the day Helios crash and burned, yet here she was – very much alive and crouched down behind an outcropping of a rock, just a matter of meters away from the rim of the large impact crater.

A delighted smile tugged at Theia’s lips. Not only because Handsome Jack’s pride and joy lay in ruin, but because the wreckage of a gigantic artificial complex of control, weaponry and surveillance was ripe for the picking.

For the first time in a long time, she felt hope and couldn’t help but fantasise about the possibilities. Maybe, if she were lucky, she’d come across weapons and information galore, make her fortune and then finally be able to leave this shithole of a planet.

But she was getting ahead of herself; she’d have to get in and out without dying first.

Crash that big was sure to attract the local colour, and that was exactly who Theia spent every waking moment of her life trying to avoid. But maybe, if she was quick, she could get in and out before they arrived. Sure, there were bound to be a few survivors, but Theia felt confident she could take on a couple Hyperion suits it if came to it.

Theia took a moment to listen in, waiting for the screech of rakks, the snarf of skags, the mad giggling of psychos. But she heard only the crackling of fire. Time to take a close look. Carefully, Theia slid down the impact crater – saying close enough to the rim for a quick escapes, but far enough to allow her to closely examine the ruins through the scope of her modified Jakob’s sniper rifle. 

The first thing that drew her attention was a decapitated statue of Handsome Jack. Amusing but hardly of any value. She moved on and came across… a sandwiched car hanging off some wreckage… pretty expensive looking. But, even if she could restore it, it was hardly suited for Pandoran terrain – perhaps it had some salvageable parts?

Timed seemingly like magic, the car slackened – crashing down to the floor, giving Theia an awful fright. Adrenaline pumping, she focused her scope again – scouring the nearby era for the cause…. and quickly found it.

A survivor? Well, if she be damned. Theia did expect a few survivors but she didn’t think one would be up and at it already. 

She kept her gaze on the Hyperion, her eyeline following him as he stumbled his way through the wreckage – paying extra attention to his bright yellow cybernetic arm. Now that? That would fetch a pretty price. Or better yet – could have some uses.

“God d d d dammit.” A voice glitched in and out of existence, echoing in the crater, much louder than a person. “You know. I really liked that sp-sp-space station. I don’t think insurance is gonna cover this one.” 

Theia knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted her nightmares. She didn’t need her scope to see Handsome Jack’s face recreating and deconstructing itself digitally on a cracked screen near the survivor.

What. In. The. Absolute. Ever. Living. Fuck? That couldn’t be possible. Could it? How was that possible?

She was shocked into inaction – all she could do is watch as the survivor approached the screen seemingly unphased. Or as unphased as someone who had just crashed onto Pandora could be, she supposed.

“Oh Rhys, you absolute dick. Look what you’ve done.” Jack’s voice? His consciousness voice? A computer program’s voice? She didn’t know. The voice, though glitching, was certainly more stable sounding now. “I built this place with my own two hands…. and a couple hundred expendable workers. Now it’s rubble. So thanks for that, asshole.”

Though completely lost, Theia could grasp somethings. The survivor, ‘Rhys’ crashed Helios. But why? 

It looked as though ‘Rhys’ was retorting but Theia couldn’t hear what he was saying from that distance. So - she risked moving in further. Theia didn’t catch what the Hyperion had said, but the voice boomed again. “You know, if I’m honest kid… fells pretty shitty. I’m proud of ya, kid… you didn’t stop at anything to kill me.”

Theia’s mind was too much of a jumbled mess to assemble the jigsaw puzzle pieces of information she was learning. She had found far more than she was looking for. 

Finally, she heard Rhys’ voice – it was faint – but she could make out his words. “This is the part where you give me the ‘we’re not so different you and I’ speech again.”

“Oh god no!” The voice was lined with laughter but not amused. “You’re WAY better at killing than I am! How many people do you think were on Helios, huh? How many of your co-workers did you just eject into space to get rid of me, huh? What makes you think you’re the good guy in this scenario, huh?”

Goosebumps traced Theia’s exposed legs, but it wasn’t the chill of the Pandoran night.

“There was no other choice…” Rhys voice was regretful and the Jack on the screen smirked. 

“Okey-dokey. I’ll spare you the amount of times I’ve told myself exactly the same thing. Hey, whatever gets you to sleep at night, huh?” Jack paused briefly. “Everyone thinks they’re the hero of their own story.” The words reverberated around, resonating slightly differently than the others. 

Theia knew Jack had thought he was a hero. Hell, it was pretty much all he had said when he was alive. He said it so many god times she smashed her radio on the floor. The self-hailed saviour of Pandora. The only thing more dangerous than a deluded rich egomaniac was a deluded rich egomaniac with a hero complex.

“I should have seen this coming – ever since I came to this nacho-flavoured shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everyone I gave a rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell… my goddamn daughter. Maybe I deserved it…. the road to hell is paved with good intentions, right?”

“And you don’t see a pattern forming here?” Rhys retorted as Theia had a similar thought.

“Take a good look around you, Rhys.” Oddly enough, Rhys followed the suggestion – turning away from the screen and casting his glance downwards and outwards to the wreckage causing Theia to hunker down lower against the cover of the metal sheet. “… this is what success looks like.”

Theia felt nauseous.

“You’ll see… after a while you start to measure it by the size of the pile of destruction around you. You’ve gotta break it down to build it back up. This was your first step in that. It’s the only way. You’ll see. And there’s so much to break down before you can build again.”

“No man. I’ll find a different way to do things.” Rhys scoffed and turned back around to face Jack causing Theia to pop her head back over her cover just in time to see a mechanical extension port rise out of some sort of chair. “I’m not gonna follow in your-”

Before Rhys could finish his sentence, the mechanical extension implanted itself into the side of his head. He cried out in pain to the soundtrack of Jack’s laughter as he pulled the extension away from his head – but clearly it was too late, the damage had been done and Jack’s face blinked out of existence. What that damage was exactly eluded Theia. 

She didn’t know how to react – she didn’t even know what the hell was going on. 

Rhys let out a sharp grasp as his cybernetic arm came up to clamp around his neck, tight enough to cut off his air supply. Desperate gasps for air filled the crater, as the Hyperion sank down to his knees – his flesh hand scrambling at the metal. 

Thirty minutes or so ago she would have paid for the chance to see a Hyperion choke themselves out, but right now she was squirming in her front row seats. In that moment, Theia was certain of one thing, she had to act.

An electric pellet flashed out and struck the Hyperion in the shoulder causing him to fly down onto his back. Her aim has been non-fatal – but had it downed him? She waited and watched, and after a few seconds of nothing, she approached.

Cautiously, Theia knelt down beside the Hyperion. All this crouching as giving her leg and leg brace hell. Ignoring the nag of discomfort, she looped two fingers around his wrist and holding her other hand in front of his nose. She felt hot breath against her palm and his heart beat – a little zany but present.

Relief spread through Theia as she wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. Wait. Since when was she in the business of routing for Hyperions to live? Theia dismissed the though and made herself a deal.  
She’d allow herself to look around for 10 minutes and then she’d drag herself and the Hyperion to safety. 

Rising to her feet, Theia realised the mechanical stabby extension thing was connecting to a cushy looking office chair. Definitely a big shots office. She briskly checked around, searching through debris and scrap metal when – holy shit! Jackpot!

Through shards of what seemed to have been a display cabinet, she reached inside – pulling out a very impressive looking pump-action shotgun. It was definitely Hyperion in manufacture, but she couldn’t guess at a name – but for it to be on display in a hot shots office – it reeked legendary. Result!

Stringing the gun across her back, she resumed her search through the cabinet; a cowboy hat, a goatee, a weird looking gismo (which she pocketed) and… oh wow. The rights to the ATLAS corporation.  
Sure, it meant nothing now. But seven or so years ago, this would have been ridiculously expensive. Hell, she could’ve probably bought a planet with part ownership of ATLAS – let alone sole ownership. Though worthless, Theia couldn’t help but slide it into her backpack.

She couldn’t think of a bigger fuck you to the ghost of the ATLAS corporation then being owned by a Pandoran. Not only a Pandoran – but a Dahl brat who had been run out of Haven by bandits they hired.  
Theia cast a longing look at the expensive car but told herself no. Like it or not – she had to drag this… horrifically dressed Hyperion to her camp. She’d never seen such a combination of clothing in her life; a bright blue pinstriped shirt, a grey sleeveless blazer, and a red tie tucked into grey trousers which, similar to the shirt, also had pinstripes on one leg.

Theia could only hope the Hyperion had better common sense than fashion sense.

She moved in to take hold of his arms to prepare to drag him uphill, but her own arm was grasped by the cybernetic arm. Falling back in shock, Theia landed hard on her arse and scrambled backwards as the Hyperion came back to his sense.

Far too quickly.

Whilst Rhys groaned and sat up, Theia took the shotgun off her back and aimed it at him. 

“God, that hurts like a son of a bastard!” Rhys shouted, cybernetic hand flying up to his head, very much in his own little world.

“Don’t fucking move,” She slid the pump handle back towards her and thanked the Eridians that there was ammo, before sliding it back into place to push a bullet into the chamber. Her eyes met his and she was surprised to find one brown natural eye and a illuminated blue ECHO eye. “I’m fucking warning you!”

“Woah! Ease up, buttercup!” Rhys didn’t move like she ordered but if anything Theia only felt more unsettled. “Ha. Nice shotgun! But I don’t think that belongs to you, pumpkin. So why don’t you put it down?” Theia didn’t respond. “You really gonna shoot an unarmed man? With his own gun? That, cupcake, that is in poor taste. So why don’t we just cool it and-”

Before Rhys could finish his sentence, Theia jutted the shotgun forwards, hitting him square in the face as he reached out to grab the barrel. The power of the blow forced Rhys’ head back against the dirt and allowed her to get another blow for good measure, striking him across the cheek.

Theia’s heart pounded in her head as she got up, watching the very alive but very unconscious Hyperion. She raised the shotgun at him once again, finger on the trigger, but a gnawing feeling made her drop it. 

She could kill this asshole whenever she wanted; might as well get some use out of him first.


End file.
